


The Wayfaring Stranger

by T J Feardorcha (MonsterTesk)



Series: Flurries [2]
Category: Justified
Genre: Existential Angst, Existentialism, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Post Apocalyptic World, Sick Character, past Raylan Givens/Winona Hawkins, past ava crowder/boyd crowder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6582262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterTesk/pseuds/T%20J%20Feardorcha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should be the greatest thing, so why are your dreams worse? Why is there more blood in the sink in the morning?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Priorities

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to The House Carpenter. This will be very very slow posting. Like I'm only expecting to post a chapter a month or so at least until my other currently active major fic is finished.

Boyd wakes up and Raylan is there sometimes and sometimes not. He gets calls at weird hours. If he notices Boyd is awake he says, "Hold on," and, "I got to take this," then leaves the room. He only ever goes as far as the other side of the door. Boyd can hear his soft voice on the other side, the pauses when he's listening. Sometimes Boyd creeps out of bed to stand on the other side of the door. This close he can barely make out the words.

 

Raylan says things like, "Is she getting worse?" Or "Are you OK?" But most often Boyd hears, "You know I can't," and, "Maybe next week."

 

Boyd is pretty sure Raylan is talking to Winona because he doesn't leave when it's his boss or coworkers on the phone. Boyd would put money down on that because he always comes back into bed after these calls and uses his mouth on Boyd as if he's apologizing for something. Boyd can practically feel him mouthing, "I'm sorry," into Boyd's skin as he makes Boyd shake and moan, fingers digging into Raylan's back and never lets Boyd return the favor even though Boyd is getting better at using his mouth.

 

This time it's Boyd who gets woken by his phone. Boyd reaches out blindly with one hand, unwilling to lift his head from where he has it pressed against Raylan's back. The man sleeps on his belly so Boyd has had to do some maneuvering to get comfortable laying half on Raylan and he's not about to give up his position.

 

He hits Raylan in the head with the phone until he takes it from Boyd.

 

"Givens," he says, half into the pillow. Boyd sleepily kisses the shoulder under his face and presses closer. In this position, Raylan's ass is just out of reach of where he wants it. He's grown a sort of fondness for being behind Raylan because of the way he grunts and cusses when Boyd presses up against him. He thinks Raylan might have a certain predilection but hasn't been able to fully confirm this yet.

 

Boyd slides the hand he had given Raylan the phone with down his back.

 

"Yeah, Art," Raylan says voice sleep-sharp from being woken up. He shifts a little, back curling at a barely perceptible level into Boyd's hand.

 

"I'm not now."

 

The subtle motion becomes more evident when Boyd's hand goes under the blankets and over his backside.

 

"What about her?" Raylan asks, voice somehow harder and softer all at once. Boyd traces his fingers where ass and thigh meet. Raylan shivers, his legs spreading just the tiniest bit. Boyd kisses along Raylan's stiff spine. He knows Raylan likes this. Maybe even loves it if the way his ears usually turn beat red when Boyd touches there.

 

"Say that again," Raylan says as he sits up, effectively pushing Boyd off of him. Boyd doesn't sigh even if he feels like it a little. Boyd knows where he rates on Raylan's priorities list and right now he's at the lower end. It would be petty of him to get huffy over something like this. Instead he sits up against the wall at the head of the bed and watches Raylan.

 

A little line is forming between his eyebrows, a frown settling harshly on his face. Raylan sits back on his haunches, blankets still tangled around his legs. Boyd appreciates the sight of Raylan's thighs, his chest, his soft belly where Boyd had sucked a love mark just the night before.

 

"Is she-- and the b- are they... OK... If I can... Yeah. Thanks Art."

 

Raylan hangs up, sets the phone carefully on the milk crate to the side of the bed. He's frowning at his phone. Boyd waits. If Raylan wants to tell him he will.

 

"I gotta go to Lexington," Raylan says, distraction in his voice. Boyd nods.

 

"It's Winona and your babe ain't it?"

 

Raylan nods, eyes far away. Mechanically, he stands up and reaches for his underwear. This alarms Boyd. It's too early to be outside. The temperature drops too low at night and doesn't warn up enough to be outside before the noon hour. Raylan would get frostbite before he managed to make it to the highway.

 

"What're you doing , Raylan?" Boyd asks like he doesn't know.

 

"Told you. I have to go to Lexington."

 

Boyd shakes his head even though Raylan isn't looking at him.

 

"You can't leave right now and you know it. It's too cold outside."

 

Raylan shakes his head, hand stuffed down the leg of his hose.

 

"Raylan."

 

Nothing.

 

"Raylan," Boyd tries again. Raylan sits down on the bed and starts pulling on the panty hose. Boyd crawls until he's kneeling behind Raylan. Supplication.

 

"Darling, you'll die," Boyd says harshly. He's inexplicably angry at Raylan for wanting to go to Winona, for being prepared to perish for it.

 

For being so ready to leave Boyd behind.

 

"They'll die!" Raylan shouts whirling around to glare at Boyd. He's breathing hard and his eyes look about ready to pop out of his head. Boyd touches his shoulder, slides his fingers up to his neck and squeezes.

 

"And how does you dying benefit them?" Boyd murmurs.

 

Raylan deflates.

 

"I can't do nothing."

 

Boyd runs his thumb back and forth under Raylan's ear, subconsciously trying to rub away ghost coal dust as Raylan flickers in his eye between the steady-handed marshal and the shaking boy he pulled out of the mines.

 

"Wait until noon. You're no use to them as a corpse. Until it's warm enough out to travel, and then we'll head out," Boyd says, deciding while he talks not to let Raylan go through this alone. Raylan stiffens.

 

"We?" He asks in a quiet voice that Boyd knows he uses when he doesn't like something.

 

Boyd tightens his grip just briefly on Raylan's neck, preparing for a fight.

 

"Yes, Raylan. We. It's too dangerous to travel alone as you well know."

 

Boyd keeps his voice even, soft. He knows it's a risk and that Raylan can refuse to let him go with. This is something private that Raylan might want to handle alone. Boyd would just be intruding but he has to try. He needs to make sure that Raylan doesn't die in the ice and snow and cold.

 

"I--" Raylan starts, stops, frowns. "I'd appreciate it, Boyd."

 

Boyd lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He smiles softly at Raylan who's staring down at his lap.

 

"Now come on back to bed, boy. We'll need our rest for this," Boyd says, letting go of Raylan's neck. Raylan shucks the underclothes he'd managed to pull on. Boyd lays back on the bed and closes his eyes. He can feel Raylan moving and then a mouth lightly touches his. Boyd smiles a little and kisses back. Raylan climbs on top of him, hands pushing the pillows down next to Boyd's head.

Raylan kisses him tentatively like he has something to apologize for. Boyd keeps his eyes shut, knowing how uncomfortable Raylan gets when he stares. Boyd raises his right hand and gently traces up and down Raylan's spine. It's meant to be soothing, reassuring.

 

Raylan kisses Boyd harder and more frantically with each pass. Boyd feels him arch into the touch more and more. After a while he takes his mouth off Boyd's and presses it into his neck. Boyd stops his palm against his lower back, fingers idly scratching. Raylan breathes these hissing breaths and grazes teeth along Boyd's neck. He presses his torso down on Boyd like he wants to crush him. Boyd lets out a contented noise.

 

"Boyd," Raylan says, lifting his head from Boyd's neck.

 

"Yes, Raylan?"

 

"Open your eyes."

 

Boyd complies with his request. Raylan is staring at him with an inferno in his eyes. His ears are a red that's slowly spreading down his neck and cheeks. Boyd can't breath.

 

"I want you to fuck me. Not today, but soon. I want you," Raylan says in a steady, reasonable voice. "To fuck me."

 

If Boyd had forgotten how to breath before that he doesn't know what the word means now. Raylan presses down onto Boyd's groin as if to needlessly emphasize his point.

 

Boyd's hands are moving, grabbing Raylan's backside while his hips surge up. It's nearly surreal. He feels almost detached from his body and too aware all at once. Raylan's mouth drops open, his eyes nearly closing as he gyrates against Boyd.

 

Raylan sits up, back bowed until his face must be in the pillow next to Boyd's. Boyd keeps moving his hips and Raylan rolls his in less smooth motions the longer it goes on.

 

"Fuck me," Raylan grunts out. Boyd bites his lip to keep quiet. "With those fingers or your cock or your tongue. I don't-- I don't care, Boyd. Just want to feel it."

 

Raylan bites kisses into Boyd's neck as he talks and it's wonderful. It's like seeing sun for the first time after being down in the mines all day.

 

"I would happily oblige your request, my friend," Boyd says, voice more breathe than sound. Raylan nods like that's a legitimate response

 

“Talk more.”

 

“What should I say?” Boyd asks, eternally unsure of what to do with Raylan’s requests or Raylan in general. Raylan just shakes his head so Boyd fishes around his mind for appropriate things to say while his hands slide up Raylan's back.

 

"Sometimes I think about it - so much more than I used to. I think about what it would be like to be inside you, how it would feel, what faces you would make," Boyd says, voice quiet as confessions deserve. Raylan just continues to move against Boyd, mouth open and hissing breathes out onto Boyd's shoulder.

 

"I know it's unlikely but I hope you're a talker, maybe scream when you come. I'd like that more than I can say, my friend. For you to scream my name while I'm buried inside you. I do so love it when you talk."

 

Boyd must be saying the right things because Raylan is making these little grunting noises, his motions getting more frantic and less controlled. It feels wonderful. Absolutely perfect.

 

"Sometimes I hate it when you use your mouth because it means any noises you would make are muffled or silenced entirely," Boyd murmurs. "It does," Boyd says, fingers idly tracing over Raylan's back. He can feel it flexing as Raylan moves. "Have the benefit of me being able to feel any such noises you would make though. I enjoy that quite a lot while I imagine it's not your mouth around my cock but that lovely behind of yours. Wonder if it's loose or so tight I can barely breath, would you move into me or away? What position would we take, Raylan? Would you ride me or would I be on top, so close you couldn't look away, watching you as you came undone?"

Boyd falls silent with a soft gasp due to Raylan taking them both in hand. It's quiet for a while after that with only the small squeaks of the bed as noise from Raylan thrusting down and Boyd jerking his hips up.

Boyd is undone first, nails scoring into Raylan's bottom where he's gone back to grabbing. Raylan follows a little after, Boyd panting into his hair. He talks through it which is unusual but appreciated.

Raylan mutters, "Want you to fuck me 'til I don't know nothing but it. Want you on me- in me so deep I can feel it in my belly. Want-- fuck." Raylan stops, groans, bites down hard on Boyd's shoulder, shuddering. He goes limp on top of Boyd, smearing their mess between them.

They stay like that a while, Boyd running one hand from shoulder to flank, the other possessively gripping Raylan's hip.

He doesn't look at Raylan's face, smashed as it is into his chest, mouth breathing wetly onto the scar he left there. No. Instead, he stares at the space heater, raggedly clinking in the corner and feels... Unprepared.

Boyd has words for everything and most things more than one but this.... Whatever it is with Raylan, feel childishly small and simple; single-syllable words strung together in bubbled letters and jerky lines until they mean something less than they are but more than they should.

"What am I to do with you, my friend?" Boyd says into a lock of Raylan's grizzled hair.

Raylan does not respond except to breath the easy care-free breathes of a man who thinks little and sleeps without trouble.

 

 

 

Carlisle, a man ardently against the nickname Lyle, lets them borrow his SUV with its four wheel drive and tire chains. Snowy, a woman whose actual name has been lost to the annals of Harlan, slips Boyd small crocheted booties with a flushed face and wild eyes, saying, "Keep that baby warm." Conner Lee Johnson who has never gone by anything but his full name even as an infant, grudgingly hands Boyd a tank of kerosene and the instructions to keep the space heater on when he can.

There are more. Many more. A procession of people packing things into the back of the SUV with grim faces, handing bags and boxes and ice picks and extra socks to Raylan and Boyd. He doesn't know why or how or where these people found the charity for all of this but still his heart swells and his chest expands as Harlan comes together to protect their own.

"That baby deserves something tropical," Little Steph hisses, shoving a car air freshener into his hand shaped like a pineapple.

 

They've been on the road for two hours, Raylan's fingers so tight on the wheel his knuckles are as white as the road.

"We'll make it," Boyd says, quietly, hand stretching over Raylan's tense thigh.

"You don't know that," the boy snaps, tries to speed up and the SUV slides, tires squealing like a stuck pig. "It could take us days to get there like this."

Boyd nods, removing his hand slowly, feeling spurned.

“Boyd—”

Boyd looks over. Raylan takes his eyes off the road briefly. He stares at Boyd, jaw tight.

“Yes?”

Raylan shakes his head, sighs.

“Never mind.”

Boyd turns away, fixes his eyes on the passing land, his hollers covered in snow so deep it’s impossible to tell what they truly look like. He misses them so ardently that it causes a physical pain. He contemplates in silence how much this cold has changed the entirety of Boyd’s world and what, if anything, would stay the same if the snow melted, the world warmed.


	2. Some Place in Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boyd wonders why everything now seems so tenuous even as Raylan butts his head against Boyd's back in his sleep. He wonders why it feels as though things are breaking, are more fragile than the ice that hangs from fenders in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh at best.

They stop for the night, carving out a place to rest in a low bank of snow to the side of the road. Boyd is grateful for the plow attached to the front of the SUV not for the first time today. The weather has been as kind as is possible in this new world; providing little fresh snow or a sudden drop in temperature that would halt their vehicle in its spot, freezing the gas and, eventually, them along with it.   
While Raylan fusses with the space heater, Boyd sets about rearranging their haul in the back to make room for them. It's slow work and irritating, Boyd's back twinging repeatedly from having to stay crouched over while he works.   
After some time, everything is in place as much as it can be, stacked high to the sides to provide the appearance of insulation from the outside, space heater grumbling quietly in the passenger seat. It's quite an accomplishment, truth be told, and Boyd is proud of what they have done together in such a small space. Small victories.   
Raylan reaches over the console and turns the car off, throwing their current accommodations into pitch darkness. Boyd shivers.   
"Cold?" Raylan's disembodied voice asks.   
"Always."   
The car rocks gently, a body moves in the dark into the empty space next to Boyd's.   
"Come here," Raylan murmurs and then there are arms around him, pulling him close, a blanket pulled over them.   
Boyd lays in the dark, eyes wide open, staring in the pitch and looking for some shape of the man in front of him. He finds none no matter how his eyes search.   
He gives up after a spell, moves closer, ducking his head into a space below a chin he can't see, strangely pleased for once that Raylan is taller than him. Boyd's still cold but feels a strange warming sensation in his chest all the same as his breath is bounced off of a neck he can't see back into his face.   
Raylan shivers.   
"We could turn up the heater?" Boyd suggests, pressing closer. "If you're cold too."   
Movement above him. A shake of the head?   
"Not cold, Boyd."   
"I hate to say you're a liar, my friend, but I can feel you shiver."   
Fingers tighten on Boyd's hip, a body squirms next to him, removing him from his comfortable place tucked in against Raylan's neck.   
Hot, hot breath against his ear.   
"That's not from the cold," Raylan nearly growls out.   
Boyd shivers but that could easily be the cold causing it until it's not.   
Raylan's mouth is warm, wet, wonderful, on the skin right below Boyd's ear. His eyes widen.   
"Raylan. This may be inadvisable– tempting though it would be– in our current abode."   
Raylan huffs. Boyd knows he's sneering even if he cannot see it. How he wishes he could.   
Fingers dig, scratch at Boyd's layers of clothing until flesh covers his naked hip and pulls at it.   
"Don't tell me you don't want it, Boyd."   
Lips and tongue and teeth mouthing at his exposed neck.   
"Now I never said that." A hand pushes in under the layers of cloth covering Boyd's nethers. "I only advised that it might not be–"   
"Want your mouth on me," against the corner of his jaw.   
"A prudent course of action–"   
"Your hands on me," hissed into the soft underside.   
"Considering we are occupying the back of an SUV."   
"Make me come, Boyd Crowder," licked into the hollow at the bottom of his throat.   
"Jesus wept, boy," Boyd groans, pushing at the body wrapped around him until he's on his back, Boyd above him.   
He can feel Raylan panting under the hands he has planted on his chest.   
"Come on," Raylan hisses, fingers clawing at Boyd's tummy.   
Boyd reaches up, stretching, feeling along the roof of the SUV in the dark. He needs to see, wants to study the expression on Raylan's face in this moment.   
In the time it takes to find the dome light by feel, Raylan has wrapped his legs around Boyd, and is pulling at his coats. It comes on with a click and Boyd looks down below him. Raylan is looking up at him with wide, wild eyes, jaw clenched tight.   
Boyd sighs. He recognizes that look. He'd seen it on occasion in the mines when Raylan was shook.   
With pained regret, Boyd slides to the side, turns, and sits with his back against a duffle of extra clothes.   
"They're fine, Raylan. You'd've been called if they weren't," he says with a flat, soft tone.   
"What?"   
"Come on. We should rest 'fore we have to drive again."   
"Boyd–"   
"You could always call the hospital if you're that worried. Ask 'em how they are."   
Raylan sits up, eyes two slits of discontent, jaw working slowly.   
"What? You think I was fixin' to use you as a distraction?"   
Boyd smiles softly.   
"It's alright, my friend. I understand."   
Raylan huffs.   
"That wasn't it."   
Boyd shakes his head, desiring a smoke but knowing he won't get it.   
"It's alright to be worried for them. I know I am."   
"Boyd–"   
Raylan makes a frustrated noise not unlike a whine and crawls to Boyd. He presses his hands to him, his mouth to Boyd's, insistent.   
Part of him wants to kiss back, to enjoy what Raylan is offering, but... He can literally feel the tightness in his jaw with every move of his lips, sees how wide his eyes are even now and Raylan never kissed with his eyes open.   
Raylan makes another frustrated noise, pushes in until he's straddling Boyd's lap, his mouth moving down Boyd's shoulder.   
"'S not about them."   
Boyd places his hands on Raylan's hips, leans back.   
"I don't think we should do this, my friend..."   
Raylan stills, fingers curling into Boyd's coats over his chest.   
"It's not a good idea."   
They might freeze to death or ice the car from the condensation they'd most definitely make and Boyd doesn't want to end up like– like Ava.   
Raylan breathes out, deep and long, then nods.   
"I get it."  
He climbs off of Boyd and sits down across the way with a tight smile.   
"We need our rest."   
They go to sleep. Boyd wonders why everything now seems so tenuous even as Raylan butts his head against Boyd's back in his sleep. He wonders why it feels as though things are breaking, are more fragile than the ice that hangs from fenders in the morning.

Raylan's hands are tight on the wheel when they reach the Lexington city limit. Boyd watches them mottle red and white as he drives instead of the road as he should. His mind is fixed on other things, odd and off topic. Like remembering the way Raylan's shoulders loosen and face relaxes when he's pointing his gun. How is fingers will dig into the sheets as he sleeps if Boyd isn't next to him. The way his hips move after he clips his badge to his belt.

The car stops. Boyd looks up. The scenery is of course white and gray and cold. He thinks he sees a car in the lot. The building is familiar, a ways off through the frigid air.   
"Courthouse?"   
Raylan nods, pulls his phone out, and dials.   
Silence. Boyd watches Raylan's shoulders tense.   
"I'm here... Ok... Yes... Boyd... Will do."   
"What was that?"   
Raylan shrugs as he puts his phone away.   
"Art says we wait here and someone will come get us."   
"Why?"   
Another shrug.   
Boyd lets it go, feeling as if pressing the issue will sever what little good will and patience Raylan currently has for him. Instead he watches the building.   
A figure emerges, black and pink at the top. Their gait is strange, bobbing oddly and with speed.   
They approach.   
"Well, shit," Raylan hisses and scrambles out of the car.   
Worried, Boyd follows.   
"E.G?!"   
"Got it in one, Tropicana."  
The voice is light, masculine but not manly, the words sharp, crisp and cold as the air. Flat.   
"What're you doing so far south?"   
The man grins, pulling his pink bini back.   
"The higher ups moved a bunch of us northerners south to help."   
Raylan moves forward, stoops down. They embrace. Boyd's eyebrows make a break for his hairline.   
When they part the man turns to Boyd, smiling large. Boyd is shivering just looking at him. All he's wearing is a coat and a hat and some jeans. He should be dead.   
He holds out his bare hand.   
"Evergreen Pines," he says, hand pink and tanned. "I'll be your escort."   
Boyd shakes his hand. It's surprisingly warm.

Transferring their things to the SUV the man operates takes little time even though Boyd had assumed Evergreen would not be much help. The man is five three at best and slight. Probably weighs less than the clothes Boyd wears.

"Hospital?"   
Raylan nods from the passenger seat and Boyd says nothing in the back.   
"Car rules: no screaming, no fussing, Windows stay down, I pick the music."   
"I remember," Raylan huffs.   
Evergreen turns his head, smiling.   
"I know you do but he don't. You good?"   
Boyd shrugs.   
"Aight."   
The SUV kicks into motion and Boyd immediately grabs for the handle.   
Evergreen laughs as they peel out of the parking lot.

They slide to a stop in front of the hospital, Boyd sure the ride has taken five years off his life.   
"You go on. I can drop your shit off and come back after."   
Boyd stays seated.   
Raylan opens his door, pauses, frowning, looks back at Boyd. His hands convulse at his sides, gloves folding with the movement. Raylan shakes his head, slams the door, and walks away.   
Evergreen turns to him.   
"Not going with?"   
Boyd smiles, tight, uncomfortable.   
"There are places a man knows better than to trespass; this is one of them."   
Evergreen shrugs.   
"You do you," he murmurs, and kicks the SUV into gear. 


End file.
